The 76th Annual Hunger Games: Innocence
by Insert a Catchy Penname Here
Summary: I will not die. I will stay strong. They will never see my cry, and they will never see my break down. Their only satisifaction will be that they stole my innocence when I was just six years old. Six years old...just like some of the competitors in this year's Games...
1. Reaped

The 24th Hunger Games: Innocence 1

Author Note: Random inspiration is fun ;)

_XXXXXX_

I am in deep in the land of my dreams when my alarm clock goes off.

My hand goes to the other side of the bed, as it always does in the mornings when I wake up. The emptiness of the other side, how the handmade quilt is made up on his side reminds me every day that he's gone. I walk over to the other bed, touching the pillow and feeling the rough canvas on the mattress, since I am still making the new quilt for it. This emptiness reminds me she is gone as well.

Gone. Just like a piece of my soul.

I begin to wrestle with my red hair, attempting to straight it a little more. Everyone dresses up on Reaping Day, and that's stupid, since it's such a gruesome event. I stare at the cracked, dusty mirror in front of me, pleased inside of how my face is plain and expressionless.

Nobody will know that I am tortured by the date now.

I open my closet, slipping on a flower print blouse. It may be a bit big on me, but it smells like Mama, and the boots I put my feet into remind me of Dad. For Rose, I put my shoulder-length red hair in a ribbon high on my head, and for Leslie, I wear the ring I always loved to suck on when I was little.

My face remains expressionless as I walk down the street. I can feel them on every inch of my body as I stand among the other twelve year olds, and the tears are pushing to free them. Blinking once or twice, I manage to keep them at be as Fergilane Yamless wobbles her way over the bowl of names for girls who may go into the Hunger Games.

I can see a few glance at me curiously. I am afraid, and I feel weak and exposed. But I stand there, not moving, like I don't care. Mama once said I could become as solid and strong as the oak tree that we manage to grow for a while inside our house in the little kitchen.

That tree died. The seed was small in the beginning, and the roots didn't have room to grow. But it was a strong thing, even it was small, and I even named it Hope.

I will be strong like Hope. But I will not let myself die out, even if I get….

"Frosting Swimjane!" I am picked, which it doesn't really surprise me.

I feel small inside as I walk onto the stage. I can finally image what it was like for them to stand on the stage, Leslie three years ago, and Rose just a year before. Fergilane adjusts her blue, red, and brown hair which I think is a wig, tucking a loose blonde hair behind her ear and her tan, plump little face lighting up as she rereads my name to herself.

"Swimjane?" she squeaks out, "oh, wonderful, wonderful! Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to not _only _this year's female tribute, but the _sister _of a past tribute of ours! Perhaps she will be stronger, eh?"

I stare straight ahead, not responding when she asks for her name. She was my sister. And I watched her die, just like I watched my best friend die. But no, they won't know that. I know what will happen if I tell them.

My eyes will string. My knees will quack. My voice will choke up and stutter. I will cry, and they will not see me cry.

I am strong, like Hope. I am quick, like Leslie was. I am unbreakable until the end, like Rose was. I am fierce, like he always was.

I am Frosting Swimjane. And I will not die in these Hunger Games. I will avenge them all, even he, who was never in them.

"Jayden Hendrawl!" my hard light green eyes follow him onto the stage, and in the screen, I am satisfied to see I look tough as nails.

He is bigger than I, with short cropped coco hair and mysterious ice eyes, broad shoulders, and a solid-looking chest. He will be someone I will not be able to beat, since he is so large and looks about seventeen. Maybe a Career will kill him off, or he'll go mad, or the Gamemakers will finish him off for me.

I am not afraid of him, though I do feel small.

He's giving me a wicked grin as we are lead inside the Justice Building. There is nobody for me to say goodbye too, but I see what looks like his mom and his sister sobbing from a distance, reaching for him even though he has his back turned to them. The expression on his face says he does not care, and the feeling of betrayal rises within me.

He does not care his family will never see him again. He does not know this…he is probably cocky and over confident. He does not know he will die….he does not know this yet.

Maybe it's more doable to kill him than I thought before…


	2. Compitetion

The 76th Hunger Games: Innocence 2

I find myself thinking of Katniss Everdeen as I board the train. No visitors, of course, so I got on before I was supposed too.

She tried. That girl seriously, seriously tried to defy the Capitol with those berries. And there was a uprising. But we all lost. Again.

And so we were having this year's Games.

I am from 5, at least. How had she not died, anyway?

Oh yeah...

* * *

_I was watching the uprising unfold in home. I am alone, since my sister was killed in the Hunger Games recently. Grief is still fresh on my tender heart...but this is madortory to watch. _

_"Prim..." as soon as her eyes caught sight of her sister, she started to push through the crowd for her._

_She was close. She was so, so close. _

_And then the rest of the bombs went out. _

_She was on fire, and the doctors had scrambled to save her. They had, but not without a heavy, heavy cost. She was depressed, and she was no longer worth anything. _

_So we all lost. _

_And President Snow, at least, left her alone. _

* * *

So here I am. I lay on my flower bed, staring at the fancy, high ceiling, trying to block out the memories of my family this place was bringing on me. It would more than likely be worse in the Capitol, too.

I barely eat at diner time, I never did have much of an apietite, anyway. Not since I was forced to watch...

"What's wrong with you? Are you mute?" Jayden snarled to me, and I cut my eyes at him and came pretty close to lifting my middle finger.

He was going to be hard to not kill early.

* * *

We arrived in the Capitol fairly quickly, which I didn't like. I was hoping secretley that we would ride forever, and that I would make peace with the memories, that I would die satsified a bit.

But I couldn't. I wouldn't ever.

* * *

I felt _so _violated. They'd rubbed me down, scrubbed me, plucked every hair off my body parts, cut down my nails to nothing, and...ugh.

Now I was in a dress.

It has a soft pink blouse and black skirt, and it makes me look bad-ass. _Totally._

"Okay, so what does this have to do with anything?" I demanded sharply to Pullaxes, my stylistest, who was obviously a perfect because he seemed to enjoy touching me...a _lot_.

"I thought it'd make you look..." he touches my knees fondly, trailing up my hips as he 'straightened out my clothes', "spicy. And that's what you need, since everyone already cuts you short because of your idiot sister."

"She lived for a long time, bitch," I reply, punching him in the face and actually enjoying the blood pouring out from his nose.

* * *

The bright lights of the celabration makes me squint. The audience is screaming, cheering for more of the richer Districts. I have a flashback of the past year, my best friend standing strong, but shy.

And the way she looked magnificent to me.

I disgaurd President Snow's talking, not really caring what he has to say. Instead, I survery my competition, curious to who I was up against. I'd bother learning their names another time...it wouldn't matter, because I was not interested in allies.

The District One girl is beautiful and straight-up sexy. She has long blonde locks for hair, piercing green eyes, and many curves and turns along her frame. Her partner is well-built with choppy red hair on his huge head, and his eyes are black, merciless. They seem to thirst for blood, but it's not mine yet he wants.

Yet.

The District Two girl is also beautiful, and I could easily mistake her as the identical twin of the girl from District One. The only difference is that the Two girl looked shy, pressed firmly to the side of her partner. He was smaller, only an inch or two taller than her, with hair that matched hers and dark blue eyes. I wonder briefly if they are related.

The District Three male is a shorter than his partner with a built chest, long brown hair that completley covered his eyes on his head and a bad air surronding him. The girl was large, with bicceps as well as a fierce gaze in her foresty eyes. Her hair is in a high bun, but her nice girl air wasn't so nice. The District Four kids are both giants, towering over the rest of us with matching dull brown hair and vicious type gray eyes.

I twist my head slightly to look at District Six. They are the opposite of District Four: Small figures, both looking about twelve in age and ducked heads. So we had two twins in the competion this year...the odds weren't in their favor obviously. They had long blonde hair that matched in legnth to their skinny shoulders, and their eyes were innocently blue, scared and wide, and the girl was crying.

The human part of me felt pity. The killer side that was most of my being felt the need to finish them off early.

District Seven was had slightly better odds in their favor. The girl was lean, and she looked like she could carry some speed. Her red hair was flowing free in wild curls, and her eyes were dulled of life, gray and trained on what would be the Career pack. Her partner had a good-sized arm-build, and his eyes matched hers, though the blonde hair and difference in facial structure told me they weren't related.

District Eight's male was leen, looking about eighteen, with a snake-like body and cold ice eyes, his hair tangled in black knots. Their female had a bit of a rounded stomach, and she looked at the ground with a scowl, with deep tanned skin and fists to her sides, like she hated being here. District Nine's tributes were twins as well, both clinging to each other like they'd never let go, fingers tangled in their wild brown hair and their blue eyes wettening.

Good grief with all the siblings this year...

District Ten had a big male with satiny brown skin and short black hair that matched his eyes. He looked like ranch-hearder, which he was, because of where he was from, and he leaned agaist the side, looking bored with it all. The female was tiny compared to him, resembling a fairy, like the last Hunger Games' District Eleven girl. She stood on her toes, her dark eyes scanning the crowd carefully and carefreely.

District Eleven's male looked a lot like last year's girl tribute as well. He was crying his eyes out from the start, and he was sinking to the ground now. The female looked pitifull to him, and she was also dark-skinned, looking neutrul with fear in her wide eyes.

And now it was District Twelve I was too look at.

They were both on fire, looking as unforgetable as Katniss and Peeta had. One of them had deep-tanned skin, and his eyes were gray. He looked like he could be Katniss' brother...wait a minute.

His name was Gale Hawthorne, her best friend. No doubt he'd be out for blood, and certainly a problem as well as a surrivor...

The girl looked so much like Katniss' sister it was haunting. She had blonde braids and big blue eyes that looked fearless, and she had a small frame and fists in her pockets. She was amazing, just like him, even without the flames that would surely seal their fates.

* * *

Author Note: I screwed up...Frosting's best friend was killed in the 74th Hunger Games, and her sister was killed three years before. Hope that clears up any confusion :)


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